


A Single Cottage in the Woods

by desendingonmadness



Category: Frankenstein & Related Fandoms, Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: Anxiety, Drama, France - Freeform, Gen, Geneva, Horror, Lost chapter, Minor OC Death, Sadness, WHO did it?, chapter 22.5, desendingonmadness, frankenstein pittys himself, he just wants to go home, mary shelley style, missing chapter, schoolproject, very very very very mild gore like almost none, victor is being hunted by the monster, was it the one guy or the other guy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26630113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desendingonmadness/pseuds/desendingonmadness
Summary: ONESHOT: Takes place in the middle of chapter 22 of Mary Shelley's book.His father had picked him up from Scottland and after a short stop in Paris, they are on their way again. With the threat of the monster lurking in the shadows, he cannot rest until his father is safely back home. What will poor,anxiety-ridden Victor do when they stop for the night at a cottage in the woods?
Kudos: 2





	A Single Cottage in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This Story was made for my AP English class, the assignment was to create a lost/ missing chapter of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and create an original character based on yourself ( one thing that I would have never have done because that's just not my thing lol) The story is fairly short as it could only be like three pages, so I could have gone on a lot longer, but alas I could not.
> 
> This story is an added chapter to chapter 22. It starts out in the middle where Victor's father had picked him up from Scottland after the murder of Henery Clavel (the best character in the book). They stopped in Paris to recuperate, and now they are on their way back to Lake Geneva, where Victor will marry Elizabeth. This is what happened on the travel from Paris to Geneva.

A Single Cottage in the Woods

Frankenstein: Chapter 22.5

The journey home to Geneva was but a long and treacherous one, I often found myself feeling not unlike the way I did, way back when I could not even think of that blasted creature without the color draining off my face, and entering into a fit of hysteria. I could often feel the cold stare of the beast hiding just behind the shadows of the trees, as our carriage traveled through the woods. At times, I thought I saw the monster lurking just behind us, but every time that I dared look, it was gone. It was moments like those, where I would push ourselves night and day, until the two horses, my father, and even I, were at the brink of exhaustion, and when we could go on no longer, we would make our beds and rest for a few hours, however, I wouldn't dare close my eyes, for what had happened to my dearest friend Clerval was still fresh in my mind.

It was one of those instances when we stopped at a small ravine to water our horses, when we saw a woman, not much younger than myself, gathering water from the stream. My father, against my suggestions, called out to the woman to ask if there was a town or tavern nearby to rest. She simply shook her head and told us that the only town around here was but a day's trip, though she would happily house us at her cottage, as she was so very lonely.

While we walked, she told us her story; her name was Alexandria Blu, she grew up in a poor family, who often did not have enough to support her and her parents. Her father had died when she was but a child, and her mother was too old to remarry. She hated being poor and swore to never live in poverty when she grew up. From the time she could walk, she would try to find a way to make said money for the family, though it often cost her mother trouble. Her mother taught her to be sweet and kind as well as everything that she had known. One day when she was but all grown up, her mother had fallen deathly ill, and though Alexandria did all she could to make her well, she knew that she could only do so much, and rushed to get a doctor. She found a doctor by the name, Christopher McClain. He treated her mother, and soon she became well again. He declined Alexandria's attempt to pay him and instead had asked her to meet him at the dock later that night.

When she arrived he had surprised her with roses. They sat at the dock and talked for hours. McClain was nice and was sweet to her. They went out a few more times, and she learned that he liked camping and he had hoped to one-day study people's brains. It was true that she had fallen for Christopher, and the night he had asked her to marry him she said "yes."

After the marriage, they moved into a big house and lived happily. Over the years, however, McClain had slowly become mean and petty, he would hit her and laugh at her misfortune when she cried. One day, Alexandria realized that Christopher was no longer the man she fell in love with and resolved to run away. She took a bag full of his money while he was at work, and started leaving the house, only to see that Christopher had returned home early.

So, she made a run for it.

As she ran, Christopher chased her and vowed that one day he would find her, and get her, for she could either be with him and live, or leave and die. However, that only made her run ever faster.

It was that day, where she changed her name to her mother's maiden name, Blu, and bought a cottage in the middle of the woods, and a single horse to ride on if her husband were ever to find her.

I met Alexandria's story with great symphony, as I too, knew how it felt to be hunted, day and night by a beast that could easily have your life, and I praised her bravery for telling her tale when we arrived at the cabin. It was a quaint little cottage, with a stall for the horse, and a little garden filled with vegetables. She showed us to our room and invited us for tea. As we drank, she asked us where we were traveling. Though I could feel the beginning of butterflies forming in my stomach, at the mention of our travels, I resolved to ignore it and answered that we were traveling from Paris to Geneva. She took great interest in that and asked to know our story. I felt my heart stiffen, but swallowed it with a sigh and began my tale, starting with how Clerval and I were traveling across Europe before I was to be married to Elizabeth. I was careful to leave out my doings with the monster and instead skipped to where I found Henery, which began in me, a stutter that I could not shake. I did my best to finish my tale, my father filling in the parts that I wasn't able.

After I was finished telling my story, my mood seemed to have dipped drastically. Feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me, I thanked our host for the tea and excused myself from the room. I found my bed and was out by the time my head hit the pillow. When I awoke, I found that the sun had gone down long ago. I berated myself for neglecting to watch over my father, and thus keep him safe, and for a brief moment, I panicked, not knowing where my father was, or who he was with until I felt his heavy breathing next to me. I relaxed, and for a moment I considered, going back to sleep for a few more hours, however, I found myself unable to find myself in that blissful state, and instead dedicated myself to walk around the cottage, making sure the doors and windows were shut tight. After I had done so, I helped myself to a glass of water and sat at the small, round table in the middle of the room. I sat there for some hours, every so often, checking the windows and doors once more, or gathering my thoughts, pondering if I could ever live in safety as I had before, or if my mind will forever be wary of every lurking shadow and bump in the dark.

At dawn, Alexandria receded from her room, a cloak encasing her body and a bucket in hand. She looked at me, a glare of concern dazzling in her eyes. She inquired about my health, telling me how my father had feared I had fallen ill once more. I answered her, saying how I would feel much better once I returned home to Geneva. We talked a little more, she asked about my family and friends and I, her's, until I had slowly fallen into a blue silence, not unlike conversations with my father on the trip home from Paris. Her, seeing my depression, mentioned about feeding the horses, and swiftly left through the front door, leaving me alone.

I sat some more, staring into nothing, not a thought traveling through my head when I felt an all too familiar stare at the back of my head. With my heart pounding in my chest, I twirled around and cried out, "Stay back you devilish beast!" at the monster that I had perceived would be facing me once more, only to find but my father standing in that spot instead, a look of bewilderment on his face. I apologized, embarrassed of my outburst, and sat back down into my chair. My father, seeing my cry as a burst of brief hysteria, took my apology, and changed the subject, He asked about Alexandria's whereabouts, to which I told him she was in the stable feeding the horses before we left. We had talked a little more, him not so subtly inquiring about my health, most likely trying to figure out if I had yet to go truly mad. I'd given him the same answer I did to Alexandria. After a while I was sent to bring out the horses and attach them to the carriage, though we had yet to see our host since she had gone, we assumed that she had gotten busy with her work and had no time to see us leave. While I fetched the horses, my father gathered our things from our room and left a note on the table thanking our host for the warm welcome and the kind hospitality that she showed us.

As I walked to the stall, I noticed the stable door was open, I entered the stable, and what I saw left me quaking in my shoes.

The body of Alexandria Blu was thrown unceremoniously on the hay. She was a mess of limbs, her face forever holding an expression of complete fear, her eyes vacant and foggy. Feeling sick, I quickly left the stall, my stomach emptying itself at the side of the stable. Had the monster have so much contempt for me, that even ones that I had hardly known are not safe? Or must everyone that I have known die at this hand?

I had often thought of why the benevolent forces had put me in such a life, one filled with the killings of a monster, that I was too ignorant not to create. I thought of William, Justine, my dear Clerval, and now Alexandria, one who I had no association, all murdered by that beast, that beast in which I had created with my own hands. The thought that my mind kept wandering back to was the threat that the monster made to me, the night I defied him. However, the one that came after, made my blood run cold; Had the monster mistaken Alexandria's cloaked figure for my father?

No. The beast couldn't have killed her, I thought back to Alexandria's story, her fear of her husband finding her after all these years. I stood up on shaky legs and rushed back into the stall to examine the body. As I looked I realized that there was but not one bruise on her body or neck, all of the other bodies killed by the creature featured bruises that covered the whole of their necks. No, Alexandria could not have been killed by that beast, it must have been her husband!

I stood there for a minute, pondering the reasons behind her death, and wondering how her husband must have done it, when I heard my father calling out to me, wondering why I was taking such a long period of time with the horses. The words of my father brought me back to a world of reality. The body of our host, lie dead at my feet. My father would be devastated by this new revelation, and I would surely be put to death before I ever got to say a word. Unknowing what to do, I quickly got the horses and brought them to the carriage, I stumbled slightly, feeling uneasy on my feet.

As I connected the two horses, I caught my father staring at my shaken form. I ignored his stares and continued with my work. Though my shaking hands made the task difficult, I resolved to tie the horses slowly to get it done. As I loaded our luggage into the carriage, my father called out to me once again, him fearing that I had fallen into a bit of hysteria. Before I could enter the buggy, however, I suddenly remembered the note that my father had left on the table.

I rushed inside, citing that I had forgotten my messenger bag in our room. I grabbed the note off the table and lit it aflame with a nearby candle. I watched as the message took flame, and quickly stamped it out in the trash can. I then ran around the cabin, removing any evidence that we had been there, and then proceeded to leave.

Once I left, I entered the carriage, my father already sitting there, ready to leave, and took off. I forced my drifting mind to solely think of my dear Elizabeth, and going back home, and not of the events that had happened in the stable. I resolved to tell myself that Alexandria had been killed in vain by her husband and thought not to think of it again. Though no one will ever know what had happened in the single cottage in the woods, a part of me felt I knew the truth, and another part felt it was best not to accept it.

End

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, that's the end!  
> Please tell me what you think of this
> 
> Who do you think did it? I'm genuinely curious, I've talked to like two people about it and they gave me the same answer lol, though I have my thoughts about it too haha.
> 
> Also, that was a Total Drama Island reference, we love Chris McClain.
> 
> thanks for reading
> 
> \- descendingonmadness


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